


impossibility is a kiss away from reality

by arekiras



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Crying, I'm crying, Immortal Alec Lightwood, Immortality Runes, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Runes, Weddings, they're crying, wedding ceremony, you're crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 07:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arekiras/pseuds/arekiras
Summary: "He meets Magnus’ eyes and thinks of every cheesy romance line he’s ever laughed at and regrets. There’s no way he could ever describe this feeling to another person without writing a thousand page book about it. This is the feeling that ends wars and builds up civilizations. This is what every poet has ever been trying to convey. It almost feels like heartbreak. There is an ache in his chest, thudding along with his pulse, as his heart cracks open like a geode, revealing so much beauty inside that he may die from it."Magnus and Alec get married on a golden fall evening.





	impossibility is a kiss away from reality

This wedding is shaping up to be exactly nothing like Alec’s first one. They’ve abandoned the ceremony hall in the Institute for a tree lined glade, the location of one of Magnus and Alec’s dates before they had even made a year. It was spring then, the clearing littered with pink and white flowers, golden sunshine shining down on them like the benevolent eyes of some deity, blessing their love. 

It’s autumn, now, the blue and purple dusky sky meeting the treetops. A rough wood pavilion has been erected toward the center of the glade and leading up to it is a neatly grown path of gold wildflowers, flanked by rows of seats. There must be thousands of lanterns floating above it all, illuminating the scene with a serene yellow glow. 

The entire day is dipped in gold. 

With a little bit of effort, Magnus and Catarina orchestrated the construction of several permanent portals to the glade. One stationed at the Institute, another at the loft, another at the Hunter’s Moon. Guests are trickling in from each, warlocks and Shadowhunters and werewolves and mundanes. Simon is the only vampire present so far, the rest waiting for the sun to dip just a little lower behind the trees. 

Alec watches them from the tree line, the only privacy allotted to him while Isabelle, wearing a stunning purple gown with her hair piled into a complicated twist around the back of her head, fusses with his clothes. She smooths his lapels and straightens his tie, licking her fingers to neaten his hair before he ducks out of her reach. She takes a centering breath and beams at him, eyes wide and wet beneath pretty gold makeup. 

“How do I look?” he asks, gesturing down to himself. Though Magnus had joked about recycling his first wedding tuxedo, he is wearing a different one. It’s pale gold and stitched with blue, creating runes of love, longevity, luck and trust. His tie is a dark gold, and he tugs at it awkwardly, feeling constricted. 

“You look ready, big brother,” Isabelle says softly, touching her fingers to the underside of her eyes, a movement Alec knows is meant to dissuade herself from crying. “I just did my eyeliner,” she mumbles, sniffling. 

Alec looks away from her, giving her a moment to compose herself, and casts his eyes toward the pavilion. Before the adamas dais stands Brother Zachariah (“Please, Alec, call me Jem”). The adamas, Alec knows, will activate two new steles. One for him, and one for Magnus. 

It was a conversation they had started almost a year ago. With the topic of marriage came the topic of immortality, and Alec’s lack thereof. The most obvious solution was vampirism, which Alec turned down, but in doing so left a problem. He didn’t have any interest in keeping a mortal lifespan when he could spend eternity with Magnus by his side. 

The answer, in the end, was as simple as it was complex. The magic inside of warlocks is what keeps them alive, gives them their longevity. Warlocks need magic as much as they need air. If Alec were to be bound to Magnus’ magic, it would keep him alive, too. 

However, no spell had proved to be powerful enough to guarantee Alec both immortality and keeping his sanity in tact. In the end, it was Catarina’s idea to ask Clary. She could make runes for necromancy, immortality didn’t seem to be much of a stretch. 

Clary spent nearly two weeks in the Silent City with Jem, experimenting with new runes. Runes that could be drawn on a Downworlder, runes that could bind Downworlder and Shadowhunter irrevocably. 

The rune ended up looking familiar. Sweeps and curves like an iratze, intricate like the parabatai rune. New as a baby. His future. 

Movement catches Alec’s eye, an arrival from the portal leading to the loft. Quickly, Isabelle’s strong grip is on his shoulders, jerking him around, smiling knowingly. “Bad luck,” she says, “seeing the groom before the wedding.” 

“This is the wedding,” Alec says, gesturing behind himself, but doesn’t fight her. The anticipation of seeing his husband for the first time in days at the altar coils pleasantly in his stomach, so he’s content to wait. The fact that Simon, urged on by the final descent of the sun, begins playing a slow song on his piano off to the side of the pavilion at that moment doesn’t hurt, either. Alec won’t have to restrain himself for long. 

“Got the ring?” he asks Isabelle, who waves the silver band under his nose. “Got the stele?” She rolls her eyes, but flashes him the stele hidden in the pocket of her dress. 

He offers his arm, then, and Isabelle takes it. His legs suddenly feel weak, a swarm of butterflies raging inside of him, trying to escape up his throat. Isabelle’s hand looped in the crook of his elbow is the only thing keeping him steady. 

She tugs him forward and he walks, timing his steps with hers, counting in his head as he nears the flowered path. He feels the soft crunch of thin petals and dead grass underfoot, looks around at his friends and family cast in flickering shadows under the floating lanterns. He catches Maryse’s gaze, her eyes shining and wet already, hand clasped tightly in Luke’s. Luke winks at him and Alec grins. 

Madzie is wiggling in her seat next to Dot and waves at him, wearing a frilly yellow dress and flower crown. Alec waves back and she giggles, gripping the edges of her seat and looking behind him, up at the lanterns, to Isabelle in her flowing gown. Her jittery excitement mirrors exactly how Alec feels. His heart is pounding, wanting to be everywhere at once; wanting wanting wanting. 

He reaches the dais, Jem regarding him with what could be mirth, swathed in parchment colored robes. Isabelle takes her place just behind him and he looks down the aisle. There are smiling faces of family and friends there, happy for him. Their joy is practically contagious, but there’s no room for them in his mind anymore. 

Every thought, every sense, is focused on Magnus approaching him. He has Catarina on his arm, who is murmuring something to him. His suit jacket and pants are dark gold, the shirt beneath so pale it could be white, only it glimmers in the lantern lights. His tie is midnight blue, Alec was there when he chose it. 

He meets Magnus’ eyes and thinks of every cheesy romance line he’s ever laughed at and  _ regrets _ . There’s no way he could ever describe this feeling to another person without writing a thousand page book about it. This is the feeling that ends wars and builds up civilizations. This is what every poet has ever been trying to convey. It almost feels like heartbreak. There is an ache in his chest, thudding along with his pulse, as his heart cracks open like a geode, revealing so much beauty inside that he may die from it. 

Several eons later, Magnus makes it to the dais. He takes Alec’s hands and Alec expends an admirable amount of self restraint when he doesn’t kiss Magnus then and there before Jem ever gets the chance to speak. 

“You can’t cry before I even start my vows,” Magnus chastises quietly, reaching up and brushing the few escaped tears from Alec’s cheeks. Alec hadn’t even noticed them there. 

“I’m just a sensitive guy, I guess,” Alec whispers back and they dissolve into fits of giggles, which Jem waits out before his omnivoice addresses the congregation. 

_ I have never before presided over a union _ , he begins,  _ but change is a necessity of life. This marriage symbolizes the greatest change any of us here may ever bear witness to. A bridge between two worlds, forged in the heat of a love that could not be contained.  _

Silent Brother voices contain no emotion, but Alec thinks Jem is proud of them. 

In the hush that follows, Alec realizes it’s his turn to speak. He clears the tears from his throat, draws on the memory of weeks spent planning the vows he’s about to deliver, and begins. 

“Magnus,” he starts, voice awkwardly deep and ceremonial. Magnus feigns a serious expression before grinning, squeezing Alec’s hands. “Magnus,” he says again, softer, calmer, Magnus’ grip steadying him. “For most of my life, I felt like I was in a balancing act. There were too many versions of me fighting each other in my own mind. I thought that I had to sacrifice parts of myself for the good of the man I was meant to be. I was meant to be a leader, a brother and son my family could be proud of. A warrior that my community could admire. I was prepared to give up anyone ever truly knowing me, or ever loving someone wholly, for that. 

“You ruined all of that. I saw you and my plans shattered to a million pieces. Every version of myself focused on you. You helped me realize that I life where I wasn’t free to be who I am wasn’t a life at all. And now I can’t imagine a life without you in it. With you, I’ve been able to be a good leader, brother, and son. A good man. Magnus Bane, the man I’m meant to be is the man that loves you. That’s the best version of myself. The me that exists when I’m with you,” Alec finishes, letting out a long breath. It catches in his throat when tears spill over Magnus’ cheeks and he shakes with a wet laugh. 

“I can’t compete with that,” he mumbles, releasing his grip on Alec long enough for him to get the ring from Isabelle, who is shaking with her own happy tears, and slide it onto Magnus’ finger. 

“Alexander,” Magnus says, taking Alec’s hands back in his, new ring pressing into his skin, “I have lived a very,  _ very _ long time. I have seen and experienced it all, I thought I knew the extents of what the world had to offer. What my own heart had to offer. It came to a point where the idea of change disturbed me. The world around me could change all it wanted, but I would stay the same, calcified. I believed that there was nothing truly new under the sun.

“You were new. With you, I have felt things I never thought possible. I have changed. My heart is altered forever by your presence in my life. As I’ve watched you grow, I have grown also. From the morning you woke up on my couch, I knew that I would never be the same. I knew, even, that I could not go back to the way I was. I was trapped inside of myself, a living fossil. Not any longer. Now, I can imagine no better future than a future in which I get to spend the rest of my life changing with you,” Magnus finishes, smiling a watery smile before he turns to Catarina. 

Alec can feel his heart in his throat, pounding in time with the tears pressing behind his eyes. His entire world is a blur. Blur, and Magnus. When Magnus slips the ring onto Alec’s finger, a broken sob breaks past his lips. Then he’s moving, grabbing Magnus by the lapels of his jacket and kissing him. Salty tears are running into both of their mouths and noses and Magnus is laughing against Alec’s lips, but this is the best kiss of Alec’s life. 

Magnus pulls away first, placing his hands against Alec’s chest and saying, “I think we skipped a few steps.” 

“I love you so fucking much,” Alec replies breathlessly. 

“I love you, too,” Magnus says. “Forever.” He reaches behind him blindly and Catarina hands him the stele. He looks down at it in his hand as he presses it to the adamas, looking to Jem. Alec does the same, hand shaking.

Jem, with great dignity, says,  _ Now, this marriage will be bound with a rune that will stand the test of eternity. If we can get through the ceremony without any more interruptions.  _ He turns his head toward Alec, who just grins ridiculously as the steles gleam, activated with angelic power. 

Magnus goes first, undoing Alec’s cuff on his left hand and exposing his wrist beneath, tracing a glowing, fiery rune on the bare skin there. It burns brightly, almost blinding, as Alec reaches for Magnus’ wrist. He meets Magnus’ eyes before pressing the stele to his skin, catching Magnus’ encouraging nod. 

When the last line is drawn, Alec’s entire arm begins to burn. He clutches at Magnus tightly, angelic power and warlock magic both coursing through them, sparking between their bodies like lightning. It echoes in the cavern of Alec’s chest, settling beneath his ribs and against his heart, magic coiling its way up his spine with sharp fingers. 

His mouth drops open at the feeling. He can feel Magnus’ life source, that magic which binds his soul to his body and his body to this earth, expanding. Wrapping around him, inside of him, taking him in. His heartbeat stutters and changes rhythm, throbbing along with Magnus’. The air is punched out of his lungs and the next breath he draws is  _ different.  _

The first breath drawn with lungs that will never tire, air filling an immortal chest. 

Alec glances toward Jem, who nods. Then, he’s moving in and kissing Magnus again, magic still crackling between them like a lightning storm. Magnus cups Alec’s neck with both hands, warm with life. Alec clenches Magnus’ suit jacket tightly, pressing closer. 

The cheers that erupt from the assembled crowd registers, to Alec, as the sound of new beginnings, underlaid with his and Magnus’ breathing. 

This is his eternity. 


End file.
